Mass Effect: Chimera
by Wytcherblood
Summary: Sixteen years later after escaping Pragia, Khymera struggles figuring out where he fits in or what he exactly is. Turian? Krogan? Asari or Drell? A hybrid treated as an abomination by many, to others an exotic pet - IF they can break him, that is. When an assassination mark goes wrong, he ends up finding himself on the Normandy. *Rated M. Please Review.* REWRITTEN. Jack/OC/Miranda.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Shivering, curled up in a tight ball, a small humanoid being coward in the corner. Wide gold-on-black eyes gawked in terror back at their own reflection. The small child, looking about no older than nine, hugged their knees tighter to their chest; long tail curled tight around at their clawed paw-like feet. Heart thundering, pounding rapidly against their ribcage, breathing quick and frantic.

On the other side of the mirror wall, a middle aged man in a long white coat grinned delightfully at the cowaring child. The complete primal fear his little pet project was just so... perfect. He enjoyed 'playtime' the most. Some days, the man would throw off usual scheduling to see how his subject would react to each different change. Each reaction: blissfully wonderful.

Though, there are days he doesn't get the reaction he is looking for. So, he made sure he punished his little pet till he gets it.To his test subject, they're put through Hell and back. A nightmare that never ends. The middle aged man hummed a cheerful tune, a smile on his face as he tapped at the reinforced plexi-glass wall. The child's whimpering, terror-filled shriek was music to his ears when they jolted in their spot. The man chuckled, feeling rather pleased with himself.

A ping at his omni-tool alerted him it was time for 'playtime.' He grinned, turning on his heel and continued to hum. The scientist gathered a few tools of his trade, glanced over his shoulder to his little pet. "You and I, my darling, are going to have so much fun!" he mused excitedly.

The child whimpered, sobbing as the door leading into their cell slid open and the scientist grinned as he stepped in. "It's 'playtime', shall we begin?" he chuckled, closing in on the child as they begged and wailed, the shadow of their tormentor blanketing them. "Now, now," the man tsk-tsked teasingly, "Be a good boy for _Daddy_."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Chapters will be 1k to near 2k from here on out. This story's not going to entirely follow all events of ME2.**

 **Chapter One**

He sucked in a sharp breath as he jolted upright from sleep. Heart thundering and breathing rapid, intense black rimmed silvers glanced over towards the clock on the nightstand. _'Too late to go back to sleep now...'_ he tossed the covers off himself, moving his legs over the edge of the bed as he sat on the edge. Rubbing at his face, he grunted a low groan.

 _'I hate having detailed memories like a Drell's...'_ he got up onto his digitigrade clawed paw-like feet and stretched, back popping in a few places. With a low huff of breath, he wandered into the bathroom of his small grungy studio appartment and touched a wall panel to flick on the light overhead. He relieved himself then started a shower, stepping into the luke warm water. Hoping to wash away the tension and disgusting feeling from his nightmare. Resting his plated forearm against the metal paneled wall, he lowered his crested head. Long, thick dark silvery grey ombre hair cascaded over his shoulders as it straightenedand felt heavily drenched with water now.

His long, thick tail thumprd against the floor, shifting as the end curled slight at his feet. He rolled his plated shoulders, sinewy muscles rippled down through his back as they stiffened then relaxed at the water pelting down against his form. Black rimmed silver eyes glanced down at his raised left hand, flexing and closing his five fingered taloned hand. Furrowing his brow he lifted his head, glancing over his shoulder. His sensitive hearing picked up movement in his room, had heard the door's creaky, hissing hydrolics as it opened before the first booted footstep sounded.

A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, resonating inside his chest. He slipped out of the shower, dark red-violet colored biotics flared up as he readied himself; eyes shifting gold-on-black. He picked up two voices, but heard five pairs of boots trekking towards his directions. The sound of heatclips snapping into guns didn't go unnoticed as he curled his lips over his sharp, feline-like teeth in a soundless snarl.

Lowering himself into an offensive stance, he growled, powerful muscles taut. He lounged himself forward, the door hissing open. Teeth bared in a snarl roar, he managed to take two in the front off guard, tearing the throat out of one and knocked the other a powerful biotic blast. He ducked just in time as shots were fired at him, twisted on the balls of his feet and knocked the three remaining attackers with a swipe of his tail. The powerful biotic male didn't spare them any mercy as he tore them apart.

The fight, if one could even call it that, last only a few moments. Only one of his attackers were alive, fighting desperately to breathe against shattered ribs and choking on his own blood. The biotic kicked the corpse of one, his eyes back to their usual dark-rimmed silvers. He crouched over the broken body of the struggling man, taking hold of their neck to lift them up enough. The blooded man howled in agony, hacking up more blood. "You and your men made a grave mistake coming here." the biotic male snarled. "Who are you and who sent you." he demanded, a talon pressed threateningly against tne man's coratid.

Even as broken and in agony as he was, the man still managed to cough at a wheezing laugh. " _Daddy_ sends his regards, freak."

The biotic did his best to steel his nerves, but couldn't stop his own heart to leap into his throat and a cold sweat to break out across his body. With a snarl, he crushed the man's throat in his fist then dropped him. He snagged his duffel bag from underneath his bed, quickly shoving clothes and neccessities into it. He swore he was being careful. There was noway _He_ could find him unless--

"Fuck!" he hissed as realization hit him. He did slip up, the gal at the bar he was at the other night. He should have know better why she was so interested in him...

As much as he wanted to hunt down his recent lay, he had a feeling there were more of them somewhere wandering the slums of the Citadel looking for him. He _had_ to get off the station. Maybe head towards Illium? No... too many information brokers that may recognize him...

Not wanting to waste anymore time, he quickly dressed, slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and left his appartment. He decided a destination course he was sure to be able to hide in. Omega. All he needed to do was bribe someone at the docking bay to take him.

He found someone, an old turian smuggler that didn't question him too much nor cared that he was genetically created. Though, the turian did admit he was taken by surprise by his appearance. And the fact the biotic was as tall as a krogan, if not a head taller than that. Halfway through the trip, the biotic grew tired feeling like a stow-away. He lounged with his feet propped up in the chair next to the old turian's in the cockpit.

"So, what'cha name, kid?" the turian's rumbling flang-toned voice cut the silence between them.

"What's it matter to you?" the biotic cooly responded, inspecting the talons of one hand.

"The moment you decided to hang around up here now. I'll tell you mine, in exchange." the old turian attempted to bargain.

The biotic snorted, the end of his tail flicked then brushed across the floor. He wasn't too keen right now, it may have been a couple weeks ago since the attack, but it still felt all too fresh to him. "I'll toss in some of my delicious cooking for ya for the remainder of the trip? Means no more nasty dextro nutrition paste." this got the biotic to groan. He made a face as he felt a bit conflicted. He huffed out a sigh, sitting up now in his seat as he carded a taloned hand into his hair.

"Ugh, fine. Khymera." he grumbled out.

The turian laughed, tapping away at the console as he set the ship on auto pilot. "See? Wasn't so hard now, was it?" he got up from his seat and casually strolled towards the small kitchen area. Khymera turned, frowning at the old turian's back.

"Oi! A deal's a deal!" Khymera shot out of the seat and trotted after the turian. "And food!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Khymera humned a soft appreciative purr as he took a bite of some turian-edible steak. The old turian, having said his name is Nyrius, snickered. He wasn't entirely finished cooking up lunch before the biotic male tore into a steak fresh off the skillet. ' _This is absolutely, one-hundred percent better compared to dextro nutrient paste. Hell, it's way better than take-out,'_ Khymera mused to himself. Nyrius could feel the biotic's tail thumping happily through the floor. He thought it comical when he compared it to a varren or one of those furry things humans called canines, dogs.

"If you don't mind me asking, curiosity getting the better of me," Nyrius started, turning around to place the next steak onto his own plate. "What do you know of yourself?"

Khymera paused mid chew, staring at the turian with a cocked brow. "Why?" he questioned back carefully, feeling the energy of his biotics buzzing beneath his skin.

Nyrius set the skillet aside and lifted both his three-taloned hands up. "As I said, just curious. Didn't get passed me that you've some turian features. With that fringe, those talons, some of your plating and..." he gestured more downwards.

Khymera smirked, giving a flirtatious smirk and leaned forward onto the counter. "Well, I have been told I'm hung like a--"

Nyrius sputtered and coughed, the coloration of his showing softer hide beneath his plating darkening in a form of a blush. "Not what I meant! Your feet, jackass!"

The large biotic male tossed his head back in roaring laughter. Khymera crossed his arms over his chest as he straightened up. "Let me remind you, I do not belong to any of the known council species." he stated calmly. "I mean, look at me!" Khymera scoffed at himself, gesturing and thumped his tail heavily.

The old turian did look him over once more, tapping a talon against his bottom mouth plate. "Hmn~, I can also pick out that you've some features of... a mix of asari... human? Hm. Asari-Humanesquic... Your height must be tied in with Krogan, possibly also the tail... a... very long tail. Krogans have lil stubby ones," Nyrius waggled a talon to mirror a krogan's. Doing so made Khymera snort humoriously.

"You know, I know a Salarian doc on Omega. He could--"

"No." Khymera snapped, his casual expression twisted up into a menacing one. "Doc means scientist with Salarians. Fuck that!"

Nyrius's mandibles quirked, rapted his talons atop the metal surface. Striking greens stared down the larger male standing on the other side of the counter. "Dr. Solus is a trusted old friend. He wouldn't harm a pyjack..." the turian blinked at the thought and decided to keep it to himself. _'Most likely disect a pyjack to figure out how they can adapt to various planets...'_ Nyrius cleared his throat, "Besides, aren't you curious?"

"Fuck. Scientists." Khymera growled low, one corner of his lips curled over his teeth as he bared them in warning. Struggling hard to keep those horridly detailed memories at bay. The old turian gave a shake of his head as the biotic hybrid stormed off down into the cargo bay.

Nyrius' mandibles flicked and fluttered in thought as he picked up his plate. He made his way back to the cockpit to eat, watching the void sparkle and dance with the various stars. After eating half what was on his plate, he brought his omni-tool up and tapped away a message to a friend.

 _[M,_

 _I've a guest on my ship Omega bound. He's an interesting fella, actually. Could I ask a favor of you, old friend? Can you keep an eye on him? I've a feeling there are some bad folks hunting this kid. When you see him, you'll understand._

 _-N]_

Khymera had found some contraband boxes to lay across on, using his arm as a pillow. _'Dumbass, fucking old bird-face... What the fuck does he know? He doesn't know shit about me!'_ he snorted, readjusting himself to try and get more comfortable.

"You know, it's a lot more comfortable in the spare sleeping quarters." said old bird-face's voice chimed over the ship's comms.

"Fuck off." Khymera snapped.

A sigh was heard over the comms. "Invitation's still open." Nyrius closed comms and fell back in his pilot's chair. He sat there for a few moments longer and was about to get up when his omni-tool pinged. He brought it up and opened a message he recieved. Glancing it over, he sighed in relief.

 _[N,_

Need _I remind you I was formerly part of the STG? Consider it done._

 _-M]_

At some point, Khymera had dozed off only to awaken with a start. He worked to steady his breathing and calm his heart rate. Sitting up, he rubbed at his face with a taloned hand. An aggitated groan sounded from his throat as he then shook his head to clear his early childhood terrors. He slid off the boxes and shook himself, rolled his shoulders then stretched.

The large biotic male glanced about the dimly lit cargo bay. He pulled up his omni-tool, takked away to access his private channels for anything new. He found that he had one new encrypted message. After he got to work in opening it, he found it was for a hit. In all honesty, he hasn't had an assassination assignment in weeks. Briefly and carefully glancing over the details, the target was batarian and a slaver. Fortunately for the hybrid, the target's frequent place to stay was Omega. Their favorite haunt, Afterlife.

 _'Finally, I can get some creds... maybe a better appartemt and some fucking decently edible food on Omega.'_ Khymera smirked to himself, sent a quick response to confirm taking on the assignment and meandered his way up to forge for food again. Even though it had only been near three hours since he last ate, he felt rather famished. He hoped there would be more of those dextro-amino based steaks somewhere. Not caring if they were cooked or not once found.

As he, quietly as possible, made his way passed the small crew deck to the kitchenette. Khymera quickly picked up soft, snore-like warbling. 'He sounds like a dying earth bird.' He snirked, bit down on his lip to stay quiet and stealthily sifted through the night cycle, dimly litted kitchenette.

Khymera had busied himself in hunting down food, he hadn't noticed that the turian had woken up. While crouched, poking around in a cabnet full of rashens and some containers of nutrient paste, the lights brightened and he banged his head against the framing of the cabnets.

"Fffuck!" he grounded out, standing up as he clutched the back of his throbbing head.

"There's no need sneaking around." Nyrius yawned. "Just don't eat all of my rations."

Khymera glowered over his shoulder at the old turian leaning up against the wall. "Sneaking up on others is a sure quick way to get yourself killed." the hybrid groused, his dark red-violet biotics flaring up.

This didn't faze nor intimidate the turian. Nyrius simply walked by him, opened the fridge and plucked out a sealed container. "Kill the pilot, get stranded in the middle of space." the old turian stated, handing the container to Khymera.

The hybrid sneered, swiping the container from him. "I could tear--"

"Do you know how to pilot a ship?" Nyrius interrupted him, mandibles held relaxed at his face, striking green staring at Khymera. The larger of the two opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut fuming. "Thought so. Oh, and you need to be lighter on your feet."

Khymera sort of gaped as Nyrius tiredly shuffled towards the cockpit. He couldn't believe the old turian-- He shook hisnhead and grumbled, popped the lid on the container and tore into the galaxy's most delish cooking he's ever eaten. A small part of him already starting to miss it before they even reached Omega.

"ETA is three hours of no more sleep for me. Thank you for waking me up, brat." Nyrius grouchily snarked.

Khymera simply gave a closed lip, full cheeked grin as he rumbled a pleased purr. _'Anytime, ol' bird-faced fuck.'_ he thought right back, knowing Nyrius wouldn't know.


End file.
